


& it took you to realize the present is a gift.

by Bulletprccf



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, the only piece of nsfw i've ever written in my life.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:16:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24167962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bulletprccf/pseuds/Bulletprccf
Summary: Moments, as they are called, become fleeting, when ones live as long as you or I.  But moments with you cause the gears of time itself to turn, to go forward together into the vast eternity of years.
Relationships: Chaos/Vincent Valentine
Kudos: 9





	& it took you to realize the present is a gift.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wrathofscribbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrathofscribbles/gifts).



**One.**

We were out in Nibelheim for a bounty request in the early fall, before the winter set in. Instead of the inn, of course we stayed at my father’s manor. I doubt we’ll ever restore it to its full glory, but we’ve cleaned up one of the bedrooms to a habitable area.

On opening the window, a burst of cold wind washes over me, catching in my hair and bringing with it the sharp scent of oncoming snow. I must stand there for quite some time, lost in my own thoughts, because I don’t notice you until arms wrap around me from behind.

“You’re so cold.”

“Not anymore.”

**Two.**

Lips retreat from mine, and I taste the remains of not my own glass of wine, but of blood.

So that’s what’s in your glass.

I see your hunt was fruitful.

**Three.**

“Working with Reeve again?”

“Unfortunately. I don’t _mind_ helping him, but I don’t know why he has me on paperwork. My handwriting isn’t the neatest.”

Fingers lace with mine, and I see blue smudges from an unfortunate ink explosion staining the side of my hand. I squeeze gently.

“Hard to imagine you’re a white collar worker again.”

Tsk. “Hardly.”

**Four.**

I don’t know _what_ possessed you to put on that ridiculous outfit -- if it can even be called that. Certainly, you’re trying to figure out any of my fetishes, but you’re a fool: my fetish is simply _you_ , when you take a mind to hypnotize me like this.

Sprawled on our bed, you look... _bothered_ , and it’s clear that you _are_. Breathing harder than normal, your cheeks are flushed, one fang pulling at your lower lip. Legs, wrapped in black stockings bound in place with leather garters, spread widely, giving me a full view of a _very_ wet manhood, bound in black ribbon at the base and crying from the head, ready to be given attention at any cost. Despite all this, your eyes glitter -- the baked cinder color that entices me when it’s just the two of us -- and they _watch_ , recording my every movement, including the way my tongue flicks out to moisten my mouth. You’re bothered, certainly, but there’s never been a moment in these situations where you have _ever_ let me believe you aren’t the one in total control of what this is.

You run one finger up the side of your hardness and suck in air in such a way that causes my heart to stutter.

Claws curl at me. “Come.”

I insert one finger of my glove between my teeth and tug.

**Five.**

Soft dirt digs under my fingernails as I blearily look up. I’m missing my glove, as well as a fair section of my clothes. _What happened?_

The cave glimmers softly, speaking in the language of light that I have slowly come to understand.

_Oh, I see._

There is no voice translating these hues for me any longer.

Chaos and Omega have returned to the planet.

**Six.**

“That sound is --”

“Not as uncomfortable as it _felt_ , thank you.”

Remnants of DeepGround soldiers lay around us -- _under_ us, too, apparently. Our first job together since your “revival,” which I don’t trust, by the way, and it’s _cleaning_.

Our arguments have always been _bad_ , but finally having them escalate to teeth and claws is... ** _cathartic_**.

_Squish._

But I desperately need a shower. There’s no way I can report to Reeve like this.

Half of this blood is _mine_ , and the shame of wearing it would kill me.

 _Ha_.

**Seven.**

There’s something about sleeping pressed against each other that brings me more comfort than our solitude all those years ago, when I contained us all in a box.

I am behind you today, pressing you close to me simply because I want to -- odd, how you could teach me such a desire is fine to have. My left hand takes to wandering, and perhaps the metal is too cold for your liking, because after a shivery sigh you catch it, bring it to your lips and kiss the back.

Yes, I like this better.


End file.
